


Less Than Zero

by Monstacatz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Destiel, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel's rescue, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I mean there was torture but its not so much mentioned as reflected on, M/M, Paranoid Gabriel, Serious Injuries, The Author Regrets Nothing, but its canon this time wow, gabriel is alive, to a degree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstacatz/pseuds/Monstacatz
Summary: Gabriel's rescue from Asmodeus, as orchestrated by Team Free Will.Are some things too good to be true? Too hard to believe?Weakened by Asmodeus' draining of his grace and the torture inflicted upon his mind and body, can Gabriel even begin to believe that the Winchesters would really save him, after all he’s done?





	Less Than Zero

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)  
> Gabriel fangirl here to write my piece on his revival and subsequent rescue, hope you like it!  
> If you do, comments and kudos are appreciated but if you don't, constructive criticism is always welcome too.  
> I'd be glad to write more if anyone wants it, so do let me know.

Asmodeus had something big up his sleeve, Sam was sure of it. 

After compiling all of Team Free Will’s knowledge on the Prince of Hell, they’d figured out (mostly from Castiel’s relaying of Lucifer’s insistence that he hadn’t given his demon powers such as shapeshifting) that he had to be drawing his remarkable powers from a source much stronger than himself. 

The question that remained was; what being currently on earth, aside from Lucifer and formerly Jack, who they knew was out of the picture currently, was so much substantially stronger than Asmodeus?

Dean had at first suggested an angel, maybe a powerful one, only to be shot down by Castiel, who reminded him that if any angel still alive was stronger than the demon then Asmodeus would have long since been smote.

‘Alright, I wasn’t aware we had an expert in the room. What happened to “no idea is a bad idea, huh?”’ Dean scowled.

Castiel sighed. ‘Dean you know I'm just being logical, I know tensions are high right now but there's no need to snap.’

‘There's also no need to-’ Dean was cut off by the scrape of Castiel’s chair as he stood up.

‘Where are you going?’ The argumentative tone left his voice as he stood to look after the retreating angel. 

‘To the library to research;, there's no point in sitting here and getting on each other's nerves.’

Sam briefly looked at his brother’s frustrated face and then reluctantly spoke up. ‘Cas is right Dean, maybe we should take a breather, we’re not getting anywhere.’

As much as he didn’t want to shove his foot into Dean and Cas’s special brand of fighting under pressure, the angel had a point.

Dean pushed his own chair out the rest of the way with a huff. ‘Fine, we’ll give it a couple of hours and regroup.’ With that, he headed off towards the kitchen to  
crack open his first bottle of the morning.

Sam was left sitting alone at the map table, a thought stuck in the back of his mind that he was sure was important. But no matter how long he sat there and chased it, it eluded him. 

It was like a bar of soap, and every time he cleared away the bubbles of useless information obscuring it and seemed to get a hold of it, he squeezed too hard and it shot further out of his reach.

With a sigh of frustration, he got up too, some twenty minutes after the others, and headed to the library to join Castiel and see if any of the lore books would jog his memory and help him close in on his half-formed idea. He just had an itching feeling that it would help.

\--------

‘Hello Sam.’ Cas greeted him as he entered the room, without looking up from his book.

‘Find anything interesting?’ He asked, running his fingers along the spines of the books, not quite sure what he was looking for.

‘No, not anything of use yet.’

‘I was thinking...and I know you already said it couldn’t be an angel, but what about an archangel?’ Castiel looked up in surprise, and Sam felt the angel’s expression mirrored on his own face. 

He hadn’t meant to say that, it wasn’t even a thought he’d been consciously harboring. He looked down and found a book in his hands, one he couldn’t quite recall picking up, and felt around inside his head to see if the strange fleeting thought from earlier was still flitting around.

It was gone, and the book was about angels.

Maybe that's what it had been, but it definitely didn’t feel like it was his own idea, more like he had been led to it.

But neither Dean nor Cas had mentioned archangels; so why was that word ringing around his head?

Castiel’s expression changed from surprised to thoughtful and he nodded his head slightly, frowning as he marked his page in his book and placed it down.

‘Yes, I suppose an archangel would have sufficient power to supercharge Asmodeus’ abilities. But they’re all dead apart from Lucifer, at least in this world.’ 

Sam winced internally at the sad expression on the angels face as he spoke, feeling guilty for bringing up Castiel’s fallen brothers, but every option had to be explored; and besides, he had spewed the words out without even knowing himself what he was planning to say.

‘That’s what I was thinking, but what if one of the alternate versions of Raphael or Gabriel got through to here somehow?’ Sam still didn’t know where the idea had come from but he picked it up and ran with it anyway since it was the best they had come up with so far.

\-------------

After a quick explanation to Dean of their joint theory of more archangels crossing into their world or possibly powerful demons being nabbed by Asmodeus, they gathered their weapons and gave Rowena a call. 

Truthfully, Dean was a little snarky that Cas had accepted the idea of it being an angel from Sam and not from him, but he got over it quickly once he got into the nuances of planning how they were going to bust out whoever or whatever it was that was acting as Asmodeus’ battery pack.

A short drive to the nearest town to meet up with Rowena, who would be their ticket in and out of Hell, and they were ready to roll.

\----------

Walking along the halls of Hells main hub, where Asmodeus and before him, Crowley ruled over all the demons Sam had encountered in his life, he shivered. 

Rowena had, thankfully, agreed to help them get in and out of Hell unnoticed under the conditions that they got in and out in an hour and gave her some rare spell ingredients from the bunker.

After Castiel had run through every possible use of the ingredients to make sure they weren’t boning themselves by giving them to her (they were only useful in protective magic, as it turned out), they agreed to her terms and set out.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking for, or where he should be looking, but he knew his brother and his angel weren’t far behind him, the pair stopping occasionally to free a prisoner that one of them recognized, either angel or captured hunter. 

Sam didn’t know what was driving him to keep up his fast pace of walking but it was almost like something was calling him, pulling him ever closer by a thin string of pure willpower. He couldn’t stop to help the other prisoners because they weren’t what he was here for. 

But then what was he here for? 

Any single one of these locked up creatures could be Asmodeus’ power source, and logically he knew that, but the GPS in his brain was locked onto one target specifically and he had a creeping feeling that his instincts, or whatever it was that was tugging him closer to his destination, were right. 

The word ‘archangel’ still rang in his head, but he pushed it aside, not daring to hope. That particular emotion hadn’t gotten him much so far in life.

Sam turned one last corner and faced down a long hallway lined with huge steel doors that looked as though they’d been ripped from a maximum security prison ward, and let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

His legs, now moving of their own accord, carried him down the hall to the third door in on the right, where he stopped, breathing hard. 

He reached towards the sliding metal port that allowed the jailers to look in on their captives and pushed it aside. He was drawn to the door, sure, but that didn’t mean he was going to throw it open and expose himself to whatever supernatural creature lurked behind it.

Not even light mind control could erase thirty odd years of hunter training.

The thought immediately slipped from his head as he looked in on the prisoner.

Matted, curly light brown hair clumped with blood and dirt hung down to a bloodied jaw, framing a broken, bruised and battered, yet hauntingly familiar face.

‘Gabriel?’ Sam choked out, voice full of disbelief.

The archangel flinched at the call of his name, straightening up fully and looking at the hole in the door from which his captors regularly taunted him.

Genuine shock crossed his features as he realized that the face staring back at him in equal, if not more intense shock, was the face of one of Sam Winchester.

Gabriel almost tried to open his stitched mouth to fire out a totally situationally inappropriate line like ‘long time no see’, but stopped himself before the pain ripped into him. 

He’d tried to rip them out before but with more and more of his grace being extracted for Asmodeus’ use, the very human sensation of pain was becoming one he was more and more familiar with, and he did not like it.

‘Jesus Christ, what did they do to you?’ Sam’s voice was softer now, and if Gabriel didn’t know any better he’d say the hunter sounded concerned.

Sam frantically tried picking the lock on the door but to no avail. 

‘Cas! Dean! Get over here! I got him!’ He yelled over his shoulder, not quite caring about possibly blowing their cover. Rowena wasn’t getting her end until they got out safely, naturally, so he hoped she’d have them covered.

Dean barrelled around the corner not ten seconds later, followed closely by Cas, both with their usual determined battle face on.

‘You’ve got who, Sammy?’ Dean asked, closing the gap between them in a few easy strides.

‘Gabriel.’ Dean frowned and peeked into the cell, surprised even though he’d at least gotten a warning. 

‘Stand back, I’ll break the door down.’ Castiel said, looking less shocked than Sam knew he felt.

Sam and Dean moved behind the angel and watched as he touched the door and disintegrated it.

Dean let out a low whistle, impressed still by Castiel’s power even after all his years of knowing him.

Sam, however, immediately rushed forward through the gap created even before Cas himself could move.  
Gabriel watched the situation unfold with mild curiosity. 

In truth, he was watching to see if this was a hallucination of his deeply buried wishes, a rescue constructed in his mind from his own stolen grace. 

He wouldn’t put it past the demon; after all, at the start of his prolonged stay in hell when Gabriel still had free reign of his grace and his mouth he had made it obscenely clear what he thought of the Prince of Hell and all his demons. 

In no uncertain terms, Asmodeus hated him. And he had a feeling he would stop at nothing to bring his torture up a level from physical to mental, to break the archangel as much as he possibly could. 

When Sam crossed the room and knelt before him he flinched back as far as he could against the back wall, expecting the vision to turn violent at any second.

Anger clouded the hunters face and he squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating a punch that never came. 

‘That bastard. He stitched his mouth shut.’ Gabriel opened his eyes a crack, confused. Why was ‘the good part’ lasting so long? Asmodeus had to know he’d never fall for an illusion so hopelessly unrealistic. 

A Winchester? Angry on his behalf? An amateur mistake. 

He’d love to mouth off and tell the demon what he thought of his poor script-writing, but the kid wasn’t wrong, he did have a bit of a well, speech impediment.

The figure of his younger brother Castiel, still as trenchcoat-clad as ever, stepped into view over Sam’s shoulder, shaking his head sadly.

‘Sam, we have to leave, can you help him?’ Wow, his voice was even more gravelly than Gabriel remembered.

Dean was hanging back around the door, keeping watch for any unwanted party crashers.

‘Yeah, yeah I can get him.’ Sam mumbled to Cas in reply, flicking his eyes to the archangels.

‘Can you stand?’ Gabriel made a sound in the back of his throat that would have been a laugh.

‘Ok, I'm going to need to carry you then.’ 

Gabriel’s eyes widened and filled with fear and he shook his head, panicked. 

‘I’m sorry, I know you’re afraid and you probably don’t even believe that I'm here right now, but we’re here to rescue you.’ 

Sam’s heart ached to see the fear in the tricksters’ usually bright and mischief filled eyes. The man before him was not the same one who had faced Lucifer with a cocky grin and a few casual jabs. 

Castiel stepped forwards and touched two fingers to his brother’s forehead, effectively and worryingly knocking him out cold. It was the confirmation they needed to know just how weakened he truly was.

Sam quickly moved in and picked up the archangels limp body, hoisting him into his arms easily. He nodded to Cas, who waited for him to exit the cell to tail behind them while Dean took the front.

Not ten minutes into their navigation of the winding halls, they came upon what they thought to be a patrol of demons. 

Sam muttered a curse under his breath, tightening his grip on Gabriel, who was still out cold.

Dean, on the other hand, grinned. 

‘I was just wondering to myself where all the filthy low lifes were, and then we happen to run into you guys, what a coincidence!’ The familiarity in his brother's voice made Sam worry.

‘Remember me? It’s Dean Winchester.’ There was a dangerous glint in his eyes now, and Castiel skirted Sam to step up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder.

‘Dean…’ He shook his head at him, willing him not to drag this out and draw attention.

He remembered these particular nasty demons himself from Dean’s original rescue. Some of Alistair’s lackeys, taking over for him when he had other things to deal with. 

With horrifying realization in their eyes, Dean and Cas looked at one another. With Alistair finally dead, these demons must have overtaken him as the head torturers of hell. And all three of them had been headed towards Gabriel’s cell.

Rage tore through Castiel, searing hot and all-consuming, and he gritted his teeth as he produced his angel blade. He used his grip on Dean’s shoulder to simultaneously push past him and move in front of him, putting himself in between the hunter and his past abusers.

‘Hey!’ Dean protested, but when Castiel turned to glare at him, the look in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw made any further protests die in his throat.

Instead, he readied himself to jump into the fray as soon as the angel couldn’t spare a second to stare him back into line.  
Castiel charged the demons, feigning to the left and then slicing to the right, catching the tall skinny one across the face with a deep slash and popping an eyeball with a sickening sound. 

The demon howled in pain and Sam nervously shifted, restless not only because they should have been topside by now but also because he hated having to sit out of the fight and skewing the odds three on two in the hellspawn's favor.

Side-eyeing the focused angel, Dean pulled his own ill-gotten angel blade from inside of his jacket and slipped into the fight, naturally falling into a back to back offensive and defensive position. 

Two of the demons went down but with a sly smile aimed at Dean, like it knew that it would hurt him more to not hurt him at all, the third one ducked under his approaching blade and grabbed his arm, forcing him to continue his arc of destruction.

‘Cas! No!’

But he realized the demon’s intentions too late. With a cry of pain from Castiel the blade found its mark in his side, glancing off his arm before sinking at least two inches into the soft flesh. The angel went down fast and Dean let loose a shout of rage, snatching the blade Sam was now holding out to him and slitting the demon’s throat in one quick movement.

He dropped to his knees immediately next to him and pressed his hands against the wound which was leaking a mixture of blood and grace.

‘Shit, Cas I'm so sorry, fuck we have to get you out of here.’

‘It’s not your fault Dean, I’ll be fine.’ But his face was etched with lines of pain and he was paling fast.

Dean offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet with the angels free hand that wasn’t clutching at his wound. His rising was accompanied by a sharp gasp and Dean winced, moving in closer to his uninjured side to support him.

Sam nodded to him and took the lead, worried now more than ever about possibly running into more hellspawn with two injured angels.

After about three laborious steps Dean stopped. ‘Cas, you can’t keep on like this.’

‘I told you, I’ll be fine.’ But his teeth were gritted so hard he could hardly get the words out.

‘Well you’re not fine now, so let me help.’ the hunter shot back.

Castiel sighed and relented. ‘Okay, but only until-’ Dean cut him off by swiping his legs out from under him with a triumphant grin, ending up with the angel in his arms bridal style much like his brother with the lightly stirring Gabriel.  
Castiel grumbled and rolled his eyes. ‘This is hardly necessary Dean.’

‘Quit your whining, we’ll be outta here in no time and I can get to fixing you up and then I won’t .’ 

With some difficulty but thankfully no more interfering demons, they found their way back out the way they had come in and face to face with an impatient red-haired witch.

‘What took you boys so long? I said one hour-’ She trailed off when she saw the archangel in Sam’s arms, her jaw dropping open.

‘Is that Gabriel? But Chuck said he was-’

‘Dead, yeah, we know.’ Sam interrupted. ‘We need to get him back to the bunker. Can you, I don’t know zap us there?’

Rowena pursed her lips and ran her eyes over the Winchesters, both looking worried and worn out; both carrying hurt angels.

‘Oh all right, but you’ll owe me extra for this.’ 

\-------------------------

Sam and Dean blinked and found themselves outside the Men Of Letters bunker. With a sigh of relief, Dean eased Cas to his feet next to him, keeping the angel's arm looped around his neck to keep him standing while he unlocked the door.

They struggled down the steps together and Dean quickly grabbed a chair for Cas to sit down on. He did so with a weary sigh. 

Sam followed them down with Gabriel, nodding to Dean to hand over the objects they’d promised the witch as he continued down the hall.

He headed to the spare room next to his, knowing that the archangel would need some rest before he could tell them anything, and also aware that Dean wouldn’t be particularly thrilled to accommodate the angel in the bunker at all; let alone close to his own room.

He crossed the room to the bed and deposited Gabriel on it, taking the time to take stock on all of his visible wounds now that he had room to breathe.

Gabriel was filthy, covered in an array of cuts and bruises, skin stained by his own blood. And then there were the sutures that kept him quiet, the crude stitching that made Sam’s blood boil.

Sure, he and Gabriel hadn’t always seen eye to eye but in the end, the archangel had ponied up and faced his older brother for the good of humanity, and that counted. At least for Sam.

\-----  
After floating on the edge of consciousness for about an hour, Gabriel woke with a start. He immediately noticed that he wasn’t in his cell and tensed up.

He couldn’t be keeping it up this long, only Gabriel himself should have been able to manipulate his grace so well for such a length of time. 

He sat up and looked around the room, it was furnished basically, with a bed, which he was laying in, a nightstand and a simple dresser. He’d never seen this place before, so why did Asmodeus put him here? Or make him think he was in such a place.

But then the doorknob jiggled and Gabriel pressed up against the headboard, hating how he was essentially giving Asmodeus exactly what he wanted by acting like this but unable to control his reactions.

The door swung open and Sam Winchester entered the room with what looked like first aid supplies.

‘Oh hey, you’re up.’ Sam smiled at him and Gabriel’s eyes turned from scared to defeated, and maybe a little sad.

Sam carefully sat down on the bed and took out scissors and some antiseptic. 

‘I’m gonna tell you what I think before I let you open your mouth again, make sure I can get a word in edgeways.’ Sam chuckled, but it was forced and hollow.

‘I think that Kentucky fried dickbag has been taking your grace in small amounts, small enough that he never runs you dry so that you can keep regenerating it, and I think you’ve been through a lot of crap because of him.’

Gabriel nodded but refused to meet Sam’s eye. He wasn’t real, it wasn’t like Gabriel could really hurt his feelings.

‘And I think you’re the closest to human you’ve ever been, close enough to feel pain certainly, maybe even to feel base emotions like fear.’ 

Another disheartened nod.

‘Will you let me help? You obviously can’t heal yourself right now and Cas, well Cas got hurt when we were busting you out so he’s out of commission for a couple of days too, so that's a no-go too.’

Warily, he nodded a third time. Maybe the vision really would cut his stitches and he could be free to talk for a few minutes before Asmodeus came back in to rip it all away from him again.

Sam sighed with relief and patted the covers next to him. Gabriel moved slowly closer until he was within arm's length of the hunter.

‘Ok this could hurt, but I'm not sure how much you’ll feel it, so I'm sorry.’

He picked up a damp cloth and gently dabbed around the archangels mouth, cleaning away all the blood and dirt he could with such light strokes, not wanting to press too hard and cause any more pain than was necessary.

Gabriel winced anyways and looked incredibly nervous when Sam picked up the scissors and held it up for him to see. 

‘I’m just gonna cut the stitches, I won’t hurt you, I promise.’ 

Gabriel nodded and closed his eyes. The concern on the younger Winchesters face was so convincing that it drove a spike of sadness into his heart. This was probably one of the worst situations Asmodeus had put him in. Making him sit there in the middle of a hallucination he so desperately wanted to be real, safe, away from hell and with Sam. It was cruel, almost too cruel for him to bear.

The cold metal of the scissors against his lips made him start and open his eyes again, accidentally looking straight into Sam’s apologetic gaze. That almost broke him.

After a few careful snips, Sam put down the scissors and reached up to gingerly pull the pieces of wiry string from the gruesome holes they were threaded through.

It looked like Gabriel had almost ripped straight through his skin at several places where the holes were more ragged and dragged down. Like he had tried to open his mouth to scream while they were still fresh. 

Sam felt sick.

He picked up the cloth again and focused on cleaning away the rest of the grime around his mouth instead of how much he wanted to kill Asmodeus for what he’d done.

Using his free hand to reach up and turn Gabriel’s face, he worked on the blood clinging to the rest of his face, noticing that the archangel had his eyes closed again and was breathing hard. 

He kept his hand on the side of his face, softly cupping it and hoping it offered some comfort.

Once his features were as clean as they were getting without a long, hot shower, Sam dropped both of his hands and sat back to give the shorter man some space.

‘Gabriel?’

The archangel looked up and smiled at him crookedly. 

‘Hey kiddo, did ya miss me?’ He croaked, his voice cracked and sore from lack of use.

Sam grinned at him despite the ache that spread through his chest at his words.

‘Of course I missed you; every damn day.’ Sam realized what he had said and clammed up, flushing across his cheeks.

That was it, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Gabriel went pale and slumped back onto the pillows, holding his head in his hands and covering his ears, shutting his eyes against Sam’s worried face. 

‘Stop. Stop it, okay? You win, you fucking WIN okay? Leave me alone, I know, I know he’d never care about me, I know he never missed me I KNOW! You win Asmodeus!’ Gabriel choked on a sob and Sam blinked in surprise. 

He couldn’t waste any headspace on thinking over the angel’s words, instead, he shifted up the bed and placed his hand softly on Gabriel’s shoulder. He stiffened under his touch and tried to move away. 

‘Gabriel, wait, it’s me. I’m not a trick I promise, how can I prove myself?’ He knew that he sounded desperate, but he couldn’t find the time to care.

‘Tell me you hate me. Tell me you wish I was never brought back from the dead. Tell me you’re glad I was kept prisoner and tortured. Then I’ll believe you’re a Winchester.’ Gabriel’s voice was cold and emotionless now and there was no trace of the sobbing he’d been engaged a minute ago.

Sam was shocked, and he slowly shook his head. 

‘Gabriel, no. No, god no, I could never hate you. I never did. Please, believe me. I know you only ever tried to help me. Test me, ask me anything.’

The angel thought it over, staring down at the bedcovers. After a few minutes, he looked up, the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes.

‘Broward County, every day when you woke up, what song was playing on the radio?’

‘Heat of The Moment by Asia, like I could ever forget that song after I found out who you really were. “A look from you and I would fall from grace” and that’s what you did, isn’t it?...Some pretty revealing lyrics, if you ask me.’ Sam was smiling, but it wasn’t a happy one, it carried true pain in its slight curve.

‘It really is you, isn’t it?’ He looked up to see Gabriel’s eyes shining with tears, but more importantly, hope.  


He nodded and smiled for real when Gabriel threw himself across the bed and into his arms. The archangel buried his face into the hunter's neck and heaved a shuddering breath as Sam slid his arms around his waist and held him tight. 

It was in no way an ideal situation, but now that they had each other, maybe they could begin to heal.


End file.
